Fated
by Fade131
Summary: The day Sasuke comes back is the day that nobody else in the village will ever forget, but not for the same reason.  Originally posted 8.9.2006


The day Sasuke comes back is the day that nobody else in the village will ever forget, although he doesn't know why when he arrives, and he doesn't much care. He would much rather not remember it, himself, because it marks the end of his life-long ambition, and trudging home with his brother's head – finally, _finally_ he's won, he's killed Itachi, and he _isn't_ dead like his brother always said he'd be – and frankly he just wants to go home and _sleep_. But he remembers very well that he no longer has a home here in Konoha's walls, unless he wants to sleep in the Uchiha compound, because he knows that no one's touched it.

He'd rather die.

The people in the streets avoid him. It's obvious that some of them recognize his face, but can't seem to place it. Others definitely know who he is, and they give him a wide berth. Several chuunin walking past exchange fearful glances and rush back the way they came – to warn their superiors, he assumes, smirking in slight satisfaction at their display. They know he's powerful now. They know they can't handle him. He wonders what his father would think if he saw him now, beaten and bruised, a bloody mess with his hair far too long and obscuring his vision, his Sharingan nearly exhausted - and still not the Mangekyou but perhaps that could be remedied without anyone else dying - and his _beloved_brother's head in a stained canvas sack in one hand.

Fugaku would probably have disowned him on sight.

He walks carelessly through Konoha, heedless of the ninja tailing him – he hasn't done anything violent or openly threatening, and he's not armed that they can see, so until he makes his move they seem willing to let be. It's when he mounts the steps up to the Hokage's tower that they begin to show concern, and they might have barred his path if he hadn't taken the head out of the bag enough for them to see, and then they either let him pass out of respect, of knowing that there was no way they'd be able to stop him without more help.

Sasuke almost laughed at them.

He met no resistance in the tower itself, but was greeted by a contingent of ANBU who followed a few steps behind, ready to kill him, but – for some reason – unwilling. He wondered briefly at their hesitation. Any other traitor would've been killed on sight. But then, he supposed that someone had told them who he was under all the dirt and gore and asked them to give him a second chance.

Like hell.

He knew, just _knew_, that Naruto had stopped them from coming after him, every time they'd had a chance. And they wanted so badly to kill him. He could feel it. But he remembered Iruka-sensei telling him that there was no way they'd send the ANBU to kill him. He remembered Naruto's fierce determination that he return, and not die in this – admittedly rather foolish – attempt on his brother's life. He remembered Kakashi-sensei saying that he'd always have a place here, really, unless he followed his brother's footsteps. And vaguely, he remembered speaking with Godaime-sama – after the fight with Itachi that had left him trapped in the nightmare-world of the Sharingan – and telling her that he _would_ come back, he just had to fulfill his vow. So maybe she'd remembered too.

But then, as long as they weren't attacking him, he really shouldn't question it.

Sasuke's self-appointed guards tensed when he reached the Hokage's door, but he stopped and methodically disarmed himself – a rather trusting gesture, considering. They didn't ease up, but only two of them followed him inside. Although, perhaps they believed that Tsunade could handle anything he could throw at her. She probably could. Her chair was facing away when he entered, and the ANBU closed the door just loudly enough to announce their presence. He didn't take any notice, stalking up to the desk and dropping the sack in the middle.

He wasn't prepared to meet startled blue eyes when the chair whirled around and _Naruto _was sitting in it.

He didn't learn why the people of Konoha would never forget that day until several more had passed, when all his minor cuts and bruises were healed, and the nastier ones had been attended to. Not until after Sakura had insisted that he sleep – and she _meant_ sleep, so help him god if he _dared_ to go against her orders. Not until after the ANBU had confirmed that, yes, it _was_ Itachi's head in that bag, and yes, they would let him study his brother's Mangekyou, no matter how morbid that seemed. It was nearly a week before Naruto finally told him.

To be honest, it wasn't like they couldn't have told him earlier.

But at the time it didn't matter, because it had finally dawned on him that he'd _won_. He'd beaten his brother, killed him, just like he'd vowed to do, sitting in the middle of the carnage that had been his home. He'd done it and he'd come back, just like he'd promised Naruto he would. What's more, he was _alive_. Years ago he'd been so sure that he'd die in this final battle with Itachi, and his clan would die with him, no matter what plans for restoring it he made, so he hadn't really made any. It was a vague, unformed notion that yes, he'd like to restore his clan, but revenge came first. Itachi's death had always been a more pressing matter. He heard a gasp from one of the ANBU behind him when he grabbed the collar of Naruto's shirt – still ugly and orange, he noticed – and kissed him.

The newly appointed Hokage – this, his first day with the title that meant he had finally achieved his dream – kissed him back without hesitation.


End file.
